The Murder of Philippe de Chagny
by PhantomBialystock
Summary: Philippe drowned, right? Well, what if he didn't? What if it wasn't an accient but a murder? The true story of his death including trickery and a surprising relationship between him and Erik. Uses lyrics from the song How Can Heaven Love Me?


**A/N: I came up with this idea one night after listening to The Producers soundtrack for a bit too long. But I thought the Sarah Brightman/Chris Thompson song **_**How Can Heaven Love Me?**_** fit pretty well. It may not seem so at first, but if you really think about it, the lyrics really do. Enjoy, and please review.**

**How Can Heaven Love Me?**

Where was he? I had been searching for at least an hour, hoping with all my heart that the monster hadn't already gotten to him. He had killed before and he would kill again. I certainly didn't want my brother to be the victim this time, but of course he didn't listen to me when I warned him not to go after Christine if that evil man took her.

Another fifteen minutes passed by. Then ten. Then five. With every minute I tried not to think that forbidden thought; he was dead.

"Raoul!" I called out his name in desperation, hoping for a reply. Yet I only received the echo of my words that nearly brought tears to my eyes. What if he _was_ dead?

_Fell from the grace of Heaven's prow_

_Listening as the abyss calls our name._

_Descending stars from golden clouds_

_Falling to the rage of angels._

Footsteps were approaching. Slow, devious footsteps that made my heart pound faster and faster in my chest. I whipped around and asked, "Who are you?" I knew who it was, though. He was my size and completely dressed in black with the exception of his white mask which glimmered in the light of the candles lining the walls. His yellowish eyes bore into mine and a fuming expression was present on his face. It was him; Erik, the Phantom.

"What did you do with him?" I growled at him as my hands began trembling uncontrollably when I realized he was carrying a long string of rope.

"Who?" he asked in a cool, unforgiving voice.

"My brother."

"Your brother is fine. He's just in shock from nearly being strangled, but he got away with Christine. They're going to be happily married and I'm doomed to live in this prison without the girl that I love! And do you remember whose fault it is?"

_Bringer of light from on high._

_Bound to Earth, unable to fly._

How could I think that he'd forgotten? "Mine," I replied quietly as he took a tight hold of my neck.

"What was that?" Erik asked.

"Mine," I repeated, but louder.

"Yours," he spat at me. "It's your entire fault my dear cousin Philippe. Yes, don't try to act as though you don't know we're related. Of course you know. Now, who said that he would take me in after my mother nearly starved me to death?"

"Me."

"Who was angered when I tried to strangle your brother for making a rude comment?"

"It wasn't that rude! It was the truth and he was just warning a friend so he wouldn't be shocked. He said your face looked disgust . . ." Erik interrupted me by tightening his grasp. "Me," I choked. Fortunately when he heard this response, he loosened his grip a bit. "And who sold me to gypsies because of that?"

"Me. Erik, I don't know what I was thinking! I couldn't sleep for at least a year after that! I regretted it more than you can imagine!"

"Silence! I want none of your excuses!" he yelled at me as he began to use the rope he was holding to bind my arms and legs together. He made sure the knots were as tight as could be so I couldn't move an inch. It felt as if my ribs would shatter to pieces from the pressure.

Erik picked me up and ran far away with me.

_I don't know_

_I don't know_

_I don't know how can Heaven love me._

Erik stopped at the edge of a lake. I had always heard it rumored that a lake was under the Opera, but I didn't quite believe it until now. Yet I was too terrified of what Erik would do to me to be amazed by a lake. He placed me in a boat by its edge. Afterward, he also got in and picked up the oar on the floor and began to row in silence. I bit on my lip the whole way, overcome by fear.

We reached Erik's home by the underground lake about five minutes later. The gate blocking the entrance was raised as we approached, but by what I will never know. I was amazed as I took in all the details of Erik's house. It was decorated with painstakingly accurate paintings of Christine that flickered in the light of the candles that surrounded the room. An old, dusty organ was sitting on a ledge, waiting for Erik to play a stirring tune on it. Sheet music was scattered about on it, all of it looking as though it had been composed by Erik himself. There were even two corridors that extended off of this room. I was dumbfounded when I realized that the sewers could be turned into such a complex home for someone and it made me appreciate the true genius of Erik. Who else would think to build a home underground to escape from the horrors of the world?

Erik slowly got out of the boat and onto the ledge which his organ was placed on. Then he took me out and placed me on the cold, hard floor and spat in my face. "Tomorrow you will die," he told me. "I will strangle you and you will be done with. This is punishment for you. This is punishment for your brother who I nearly killed tonight."

"Erik, please! Please! I would never do this to you, don't do it to me!" I pleaded in tears.

"Being with those gypsies was worse than death!"

"Forgive me! Erik, please forgive me!"

"Never!" He turned and left the room through one of the corridors. I quietly wept, but I knew it would do me no good. He had made up his mind. I would die.

_We loved in a time before the fall._

_Welcome to the arms of solitude._

_Beneath us the heat that hearts exude._

_Is this really Heaven?_

An hour or two passed before I saw Erik again. He was holding a kitchen knife in his hand that glimmered in the candle light when he finally came around. The monster must have noticed my apprehensive expression for he said, "Don't worry. This is to cut the rope. The gate is locked, so I'm not afraid that you'll escape." He walked over to me and cut the rope. I stood up relieved that the pressure had been taken off my body, but Erik immediately took hold of my wrist and pulled me forward. We hastily exited the room and walked through a few corridors before reaching our destination; the dining room. Mouth-watering smells from the delicious meal set out on the table floated about the room. An assortment of vegetables and three different kinds of meat sat upon the table just waiting to be eaten. Wine glasses were set out and filled to the top. There was even a huge chocolate cake for dessert. Erik may have wanted to kill me, but at least he was giving me a nice meal before he did.

"Sit down and enjoy. I will be joining you," he told me as he let go of my wrist. We walked over to the table, took seats opposite of each other, then began to serve ourselves and eat. All of the food was delectable, not what I would have expected from Erik. I ate more than my fill, wanting to fully enjoy the taste of the foods for the last time. We ate and ate until every last scrap was gone with the exception of the chocolate cake. Erik served a piece of it to me but excluded himself, claiming that he had ate enough already. It pleased me to know that I could eat the whole cake myself. Slowly, I stabbed a piece with my fork and placed it in my mouth. I chewed it slowly, enjoying every last bit of sweetness, but when I had eaten about half of the piece I began to feel a burning sensation in my stomach. Erik noticed me wince.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Just heartburn," I replied, but only seconds later I began to feel agonizing cramps in my stomach. I groaned in pain and fell to the floor as I convulsed uncontrollably. Erik started to laugh and I knew exactly what he had done; he had poisoned that cake. He never intended to strangle me. He just said he did so that I wouldn't be cautious when he gave me food.

The effects became even worse. Vomit stained in blood poured from my mouth like a waterfall as Erik said, "I'll place your body by the lake far from here so everyone thinks you drowned! No one will expect that I murdered you, you vermin!"

My vision was becoming blurred and my senses were dimming. "Erik, I'm sorry," I managed to say with my dying breath. I wanted him to know that I truly felt awful for selling him to the gypsies. I did feel terrible that he was condemned to such a depressing, lonely life.

As I finished the sentence, everything turned completely black and silent forever.

_We'd fight with the gods for our dreams._

_When paradise falls, eternity screams._

_I don't know,_

_I don't know,_

_I don't know how can Heaven love me?_

**A/N: Poor Philippe. sniffle :( Please review! Constructive criticism always welcome. **


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